


Collateral

by allourheroes



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hallucinations, M/M, Teaching, Will back in the classroom, post-mizumono
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:52:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2002818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allourheroes/pseuds/allourheroes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As if the apology is in any way appropriate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collateral

**Author's Note:**

> I finally watched the finale, so I'm just dealing with my emotions in weird ways. (But also I used to have a lonely teacher who cried in class, so...)

Will adjusts his glasses, and something compels him to let his gaze run over his class as he discusses this particular case, this killer.

"The Ripper is smart, terrifyingly so. In each murder, he chooses the best, most _theatrical_ way, to expose his victim for what they truly are." He remembers something so suddenly and vividly the classroom melts away. Cassie Boyle first, then the others Hannibal had killed and framed Will for, had used to force Will to open his eyes and understand. Those had been different.

He turns his head to where the screen should be, but there he sees the man in question, antlers rising high above him. He tilts his head at Will and Will's whole world shakes, seizing around him.

"Hannibal," he says, and the spell is broken. He blinks and he is back in class, a low murmur having broken out.

"Um, professor?" a student calls out.

"Mmhm?" Will blinks again and everything is still blurry. He clears his throat. "Was there a question?"

There is hesitation and everyone seems to go quiet. "Are you alright?"

Will isn't surprised by this. It isn't uncommon for his episodes to generate curiosity, the air of concern that feels so disingenuous it chokes him sometimes. "I'm fine," he bites, jaw tensing.

There is a shuffle, another bout of whispers, and a different voice speaks up, "You're crying."

Will's brows furrow, he brushes his fingers over his cheek. He laughs. "So I am." He looks back towards the screen, something in him hoping to see Hannibal again, but it is just a fixed image of a stale murder. He swallows, stands up straighter. "Any other questions?"

"Just one," a girl says in the back and he looks up because she sounds like Abigail. She looks like Abigail.

"Yes?"

"Were you in love with the Chesapeake Ripper?" A reader of Freddie Lounds, he knows.

It's a question he has never answered before, has always described their relationship instead in complicated metaphors that leave confusion rather than clarity. He looks at Abigail--at the girl he sees as Abigail, blood gushing from the slash on her throat. "We were in love with each other," he says, like it's an apology.

"And now?" she asks, sounding surprised.

"Let's just say he left me feeling _gutted_."

There are no more questions.


End file.
